


Some Kind of Peace of Mind

by by_no_one_more_than_me (Lady_Cleo)



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brio- freeform, F/M, Here there be angst, Just so you know...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-04-27 16:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14429769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Cleo/pseuds/by_no_one_more_than_me
Summary: Someone's gonna die. You can die from a broken heart, right?also known as Beth and Rio are fighting. It sucks.Title and chapter headings from "What Becomes of the Brokenhearted"





	1. I walk in shadows, searching for light...

**Author's Note:**

> Oy. I got my hopes up WAY too high for a kiss when I saw her throw the keys and him get right up in her face in the preview. Then the show happened. This is gonna be a few chapters, so just... please don't kill me til it's done. Here there be angst, and I haven't decided on an ending yet. I'm on this journey *with* you guys.  
> In the meantime, T for language, and keep an eye on any additional future tags.

_It's 1:30 in the morning, you're alone, you're drunk, you're staring at the warped wood ceiling of your kids' tree house like it's holding the secrets of the universe hostage, and you're at least a_ little _pathetic for crying over a stupid crush._

Beth barely feels the chill in the air through the ice crystallizing her heart. The 4.5 glasses of whiskey are probably also responsible for keeping the cold at bay, along with the full crushing weight of her reality. She hates reality. It's stupid. 

After her crafting mania at her stashless table - the calendar making her wonder what the six shades of _fuck_ is wrong with her life that it can look like that all at once - she moves on to a new location, another drink and a dark tunnel to send her train of thought barreling through.

What if she'd told him about the kid when Ruby had picked up the keys? Would they still be cool? Would he have followed through with his BS litmus test or gotten mad at them for being rats too? He's smart enough to appreciate the instinct of self-preservation. Would he really hate it so much in them? In her? 

Why had he suddenly decided they were done? They'd proven themselves over and over, and no matter the front he puts up she knows Rio likes her... even if she tries not to ponder _exactly_ how much lest she sound... exactly like the lovesick gradeschooler she'd probably sound like.

She watches her sigh float out the window to mingle with the shivering stars.

Why hadn't he kissed her? He'd stepped right up in her face, jaw muscles twitching, a curl of primitive musk hitting her nose that made her body tighten with way more than a fight-or-flight response. If this were a movie or one of those tightly written shows on TV, he'd have gotten right up in her face and hauled her into his arms, letting their tongues battle it out before negotiating terms of mutual surrender.

And why did she care that it _hadn't_ gone down that way? Her shock at his cold dismissal barely registered on her emotional Richter scale against the 7-pointer of devastating disappointment that rocked her to the core. He hadn't kissed her. He hadn't forgiven her. He didn't want her around anymore. And not only did she **not** believe him, she couldn't begin to grasp **why** he'd done it. She'd stood up to him before and lived, even won a little grudging respect... so why then was a genuine and understandable response to the unfair situation he'd dropped them into not allowed? The lack of trust hurt, the shadiness stung, and the lingering unease that crept up her spine when he tried to leave made her heart and stomach sick.

So she called him out on it. If he really _is_ gonna take them out, a straight confirmation is the least she's owed. If he's not, the least he can do is tell her so she can hit stop on the paint mixer of worry the whole mess of a night has kickstarted. But there's nothing to go off of but the animalistic coldness in his eyes. Her friendly predator is gone. He's a shark in water too deep to fathom and she just jumped in covered in paper cuts.

She'd stood in the loading bay for a while before driving to Ruby's on autopilot. Annie was already there. Her partners in crime sat watching her, mugs of tea untouched as she huddled on the couch, miserable as a schoolgirl post-breakup... and feeling very unsettled that that was such an apt descriptor.

Her toes curl unconsciously at the phantom memory of her full first name on his lips, delivered through an almost clenched jaw. She wonders if he was going to say something different before the remix of "go home and get away from me" dropped at her feet like a drive-by victim. She wonders why she cares.

Okay. She knows why and won't admit it.

Eventually she picks herself up and creeps inside, having noticed Annie arriving back a little while ago. She strips numbly, swishes the final swallow of Tennessee courage in lieu of brushing her teeth, and crawls in beside her sister wearing a ratty t-shirt and well-worn Spongebob boxers she's had since she was pregnant with Emma. She's not sure she wants or deserves silk on her skin right now.

45 minutes later she's still staring at the ceiling like it holds the secrets of the universe, willing her eyes not to burn against the sting of tears she won't let fall. As if sensing her distress, Annie scoots close and curls against Beth like she did when they were kids, dropping right back into REM and moistening the fabric at her shoulder. Beth tugs her little sis a little closer and lets the presence of someone she **knows** loves her unwind her tension until she's asleep.

And now they're talking about turning him in to save themselves, and for all her tough talk Beth _hates_ the idea. Somehow this feels like more of a line she won't come back from crossing than turning Rio's boy in to him would've been.

But it feels like a decision has already been made, and for the sake of her family - _their_ families - she tries to convince herself it's the right one.

Her eyes drop as she lets herself indulge in exactly 3 seconds of pained curiosity at the thought of what might happen to Rio. If he'll be hurt, if he'll go to prison for the rest of his life, if he'll refuse to go down without a fight and end up dead.

If he'll never forgive her.


	2. Always moving and going nowhere...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hates being angry. He hates a lot of things right now.  
> Rio POV.

Rio hates being angry. He'd read an article once about anger inhibiting higher brain function or some shit. Let yourself get too mad and your brain gets swamped in a chemical that shuts down the smart side and ramps up the animal side, that stops you being smart about anything. Basically, a biological version of wrecking yourself because you didn't check yourself.

In his line of work, he _has_ to be smart, and has been lucky that he tends to be one of the smartest people no matter where he is. He doesn't really let himself get mad. He takes what he knows and applies it to the situation at hand, sometimes in a split second but always as smart as possible. He can't afford not to stay smart.

Beth is either a smart decision or a really stupid one. He likes her too much- her curves and her fire and her heart and her guts. They mutually drive each other up their respective walls (even if he thinks they let them down around one another sometimes) but he's not always smart when it comes to her. He lets emotion get in the way a lot more around her than anyone else, and the worst part is he doesn't always hate it. He wants to fix things for her, he hates seeing her upset (hates it even more if _he's_ the one  making her that way) and if he gave into all the urges that flash up around her, he'd have had her eight ways to Sunday by now and her dick of a husband would be in tiny pieces feeding the other bottom-dwellers of Lake St Clair.

But right now, he doesn't know **what** to do. He's got hot lead running through his veins instead of the usual ice water, and he swears he can feel the fucking chemical coursing over the ridges of his brain like... he doesn't even know what, he's so pissed right now. Fucking science.

She knew about the kid. He doesn't know how, but she must have, and she'd wanted to tell him when the one she's not related to was getting the keys. He shoulda known. Shoulda known he could trust her, and that she'd be pissed if she found out about his doublecheck.

Keys to the face might be a little farther than he expected, but he still shoulda known. And then it just got worse.

She threw her family in his face and he let himself snap. "You ain't the only one!" he wanted to scream. Her girls had kids too, and homes and lives that would be seriously fucked if they went down. He had his men, and a grandmother he loved, and people who counted on him not to get them locked up or killed over stupid shit. He cultivated loyalty and weeded betrayal sure as any gardener working the backyard of some rich bitch in the suburbs, and she had to know that. He's kinda hoping she really knows that and is just too upset to remember it right now.

(And okay, cards on the table, her talking about her family usually reminds him of the husband and he hates being reminded of that scuzz. Doesn't even deserve to get called a douchebag - but then Rio doesn't think the term ever applies to the guys it get stuck to. If they're  _ **that**_ bad, they got NO fucking business anywhere _near_ a woman... let alone  that part of her.)

Beyond that, he doesn't _want_ to let her go. He likes Beth, likes having her around, aggravation and all - probably more than he should. But it doesn't matter. Money rolling in to those ladies aside, this ain't the life she should want. He's giving her an out, trying to ease her out of this dark world she's way too bright to be wandering around in... even if it might kill him to be away from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't really where I thought I was gonna go with this chapter, but Rio was driving not me. I have some stuff in mind for the next few bits, though I'm gonna stick to what I have instead of going canon compliant (unless the show writers get their heads out of their butts and fix this mess.)


	3. Every day heartaches grow a little stronger...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls hatch a plan. Rio wonders what they're up to now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Divergent plot note: In the timeline of this story, the girls only plan out the robbery reveal and a few things that happened after are gonna happen before now. Also, Dean the dipshit doesn't get into a wreck and Rio doesn't get arrested. You'll see.
> 
> Author note: sorry about the delay. we'll just chalk it up to life and I promise it shouldn't be too long between new chapters from now on. aside from figuring out how to bridge where I was to where I was going (another reason this took so long) this is pretty much already done; I (should) just have to polish and post from here on out.

If she's totally honest with herself, Beth isn't convinced this is gonna work. (Although if she's being  _totally_ honest, Beth isn't sure she can even be totally honest anymore- with herself or anyone.) Still, it seems a little too crazy to hit the scene of their first heist.  _The one that started it all,_ that little announcer voice she sometimes hears in the back of her head pipes in. 

Sometimes it's announcer guy, sometimes it's her mother, sometimes it's Dean's incessant whining... on rare occasions lately it's been Rio. She doesn't hate that he's been the voice in her head, even if it does leave her casting glances around to make sure he's not really there. Even if it makes her hate it a little more each time he's not.

But the minute it's on the table, each woman around it starts working the tentative plan in their minds, testing for weak spots, kicking the tires of the metaphorical getaway car. And crazy or not, this might be the best plan. Rio strung up and put on ice, Boomer catching some kind of heat, Annie maybe getting to move up and out of his crushing cologne-drenched shadow. Ruby gets a new kidney for Sarah, Stan gets to stay in the dark, and Beth gets... what is she really getting out of this? What does she  _want?_

The money's nice (especially now she's got somewhere to keep it) but that's not her main motivator anymore. Being out of the business, using this as a way to pull the ripcord, is surely safer for her family than staying in. Making sure Rio can't touch them - or at least sees the risk involved in trying - is high on the list, too. But there's still a but.

Beth can't focus on that right now. With the fiery determination of her namesake, Beth pulls herself together and slams a lid on all those sticky emotions oozing around her head. Elizabeth I hadn't let anything stop _her_ ginger badassery and Beth won't either... even as she ponders that she and her little Antoinette were named after ultimately doomed queens. She hopes it's not a sign.

~ ~ ~ ~

Rio's been watching her house for weeks.

At first, it was a way to make sure his investment was protected. Make sure the girls weren't going on spending sprees or having karaoke sessions with the cops. Every time something unexpected came up, Rio would grab the nearest weapon and a few enforcers and head over ready to crack some skulls... until Beth talked him down. That redhead managed to weasel and worm her way - their way - in and out of more trouble than anyone else in his crew, and all he was left thinking was stupid shit. Like that words like 'weasel' and 'worm' shouldn't apply to her. Like that he doesn't even bother loading the gun anymore if he's going to talk to her. Like that he likes the way her cheeks flush and her eyes flash hard like sapphires when she's angry... and he wonders if she looks the same when she's about to come.

Then it was... making sure his investment was protected. His guys checking on her, looking out for the kids, making sure that dipshit car salesman wasn't pulling anything she couldn't handle. A string of break-ins he has _nothing_ to do with are going on up and down her block; Beth's place remains untouched. (He tells himself it's to make sure his dirty cash and her hard-earned cut don't end up in an evidence locker somewhere. Almost believes himself too.)

He thinks his guys suspect something but their loyalty runs deep, and so Carlos and Demon and Raza keep their mouths shut and their eyes peeled whenever they're on Beth Watch. Even after the keys-to-the-face thing he keeps tabs on the place - to make sure she ain't calling in the feds for show & tell over coffee cake.

_Right._

He wouldn't have thought too much of the ladies chatting in Elizabeth's kitchen today if his boys hadn't tailed her **_that_** night to the house of the one she's not related to and reported conversations  _late_ into the night... while Beth curled up on the couch "looking numb." He took the early shift next day himself. Kids running around in the yard, the trio sitting around the picnic table looking way too serious for 11 on a Saturday morning. He handed them off to Carlos and Demon for the night shift, who just report they "looked like they were planning something" when they met again that night. 

Then today Beth's rotten egg shows up looking freaked and they're drinking in the kitchen at 330 in the afternoon. He's kinda impressed but Rio's spider sense starts tingling by the time Rotten leaves, and sure enough 20 minutes later the other girls roll up. They're sitting around her kitchen with determined faces and white knuckle grips on their coffee mugs. Beth drinking that African herbal tea he'd left her instead of Columbian drip doesn't soothe him.

They're definitely putting something together. With a sigh Rio digs out his phone, a notepad and a platinum-cased pen and starts working out the details of a plan of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill.


	4. Searching, though I don't succeed...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one is having a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late, sorry it's short. More will be on the way.

It's two days til the "heist" that will drop Rio into the laps of the feds when shit goes so far south there are penguins visible in the distance.

For starters, none of the girls have had a calm moment to themselves because Rio's boys have been on their butts all day. Annie manages to lose her tail long enough to reach the abandoned picnic grounds near the woods, but deep forest cell service being what it is (and okay the tiny lack of foresight in not calling Beth & Ruby  _while_ she was on her way there) means she's stuck in the woods and off the grid walking around with one arm up for 45 profanity-laden minutes before she drives to a rest stop to call them... and runs right into her shadows. She uses the middle finger she flips them to wipe away the few frustrated tears that fall before she heads back to town, SUV looming behind her like an ex after a bad break-up.

Ruby has been at the hospital with Sarah and Lil' Money for hours while Stan picks up a double, and shares a tense cup of coffee with her unwanted entourage in the hospital caf before just promising to text them if she leaves. They shrug and text their boss, who agrees to the bizarre terms.

Beth is dealing with way too many things at once. Mary Pat might be on their side now, having found Boomer's hymnal recorder and so persuaded that he's not a very nice guy... except she still wants her hush money and Beth hasn't yet convinced her that their "boss" might be going away soon and with it their revenue stream. Pleas, sympathizing, logical arguments and flat-out threats have made almost no impact on their rotten little egg, and Beth is reaching the breaking point (i.e. the point where breaking the egg is making more sense than letting her continue to stink up their lives.) Two of her kids are facing a week's suspension and oh yeah - Dean has been faking cancer.

She's not nearly as mad about that last one as she thought she'd be, mainly because she's not nearly as surprised by the cruel stupidity of the act as she could've been. She still wants him dead- slowly, painfully, preferably involving some type of small animal with very sharp teeth gnawing on his sorry excuse for manhood. But a tiny part of her just doesn't care anymore. Of _course_ he would stoop that low, and of course she'd fall for it out of misguided nostalgia and... some strange desire to see the good in someone who'd let her down.

She's really getting tired of reality crushing that hope over and over again. Unfortunately, it's still alive enough to make her read a text from a blocked number she knows is Rio. He wants to meet and says it's important. She believes him; whatever happens, it's definitely important if they're gonna be face to face.

Maybe not _Port Authority docks at 10 at night_ important, but important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was gonna be another double chapter, but I decided to break it up into two.


	5. Cold & alone, no comfort in sight...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Showdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm warning you before you read this: the next chapter won't be up til this weekend at the earliest.

Half the reason he texts her is to check if the cops are gonna show, if she tips them off. Another 40, maybe 45% is wanting to look her in the eye when he asks her what the hell she and the girls are up to. And that lingering 5-10 is that he just wants to see her face, because damn if he don't miss his redhead.

He still can't believe she came alone, though. It's the goddamn docks in Detroit after dark- the hell is wrong with her?! (Even if his angry disbelief is tempered a bit by the thought that maybe she just wanted to see him too.)

She steps out of the mom van dressed all in black. Chunky-heeled boots, black jeans, that coat that wraps her like a present and hangs past her thighs, a thick scarf around her throat, little black hat topping her hair. Even backlit by the headlights as she moves to stand by the grill, her face stands out like a beacon in the darkness. Not exactly a "happy to see him" expression but he'll take cautious determination over wide-eyed heartbreak any day.

"You came."

Her mouth quirks and one eyebrow arcs up. "You  _called._ Well... texted, anyway." She hasn't moved an inch in his direction. "So...?" her tone questions, but he doesn't move to answer. On a sigh, she asks, "What do you want?"

"We need to talk."

Her eyes flash wide in mocking innocence. "Oh,  _do we_?" Her voice sounds wrong in sarcasm, too... hard for the softness of her mouth. He doesn't like it, and feels his own turn down tight in a frown.

"Yeah." Clearing his throat, trying to work that weird lump that's stuck there down, he speaks again. "You got the wrong vibe from our last... conversation."

That sharp snarky tone again. "Did I?"

"A'ight. Knock it off, Red." He takes a step towards her and she doesn't flinch, just squares her shoulders and raises her chin a defiant inch. "You got a home, kids. I know. But I ain't the one  _endangering_  'em." Another step, another inch, trying to wrap that armor she's been forging a little tighter around herself. Unfortunately, he knows where most of the chinks are, and he slips in stealthy and small as a scalpel under the skin. "You made it  _hella_ clear to anyone who'd listen that you where you are now cause of choices you made." He emphasizes the next word he speaks with tone and a finger swiftly stabbed in her direction and retrieved like he's pushing a button in midair. " _ **You**_  made, _Elizabeth_ , not me. Gun to your head, these've still been  _your_ calls. You wanna be a boss, you gotta stand by the calls you make and take your heat as it comes. You make the best of it. You  _deal_."

"Oh, I'll deal, Rio. With the Feds, the cops, Canadian cartels, whoever it takes to keep your ass away from me!"

He surges into her space, noses (and, more distractingly, mouths) a few scant inches apart. "So  _that's_  what you bitches been up to? Gonna sell me out? How's that gonna work for you, that _home_ you always going on about? Huh?" His fingers bite into her arms like pitbulls, and the miniscule gap between them narrows along with his eyes. "Whatchu been doing, Red? Tell me!" She slams out of his hold lightning-quick, falling hard against the hood of the van as he staggers back a pace.

The metallic clatter reaches them both, and it's probably only the headlights highlighting the gold detail that lets her reach it first. She snatches up his gun and holds it calmly, barely a shiver betraying her extreme nerves. "I don't have to tell you anything."

He displays no more concern being on this end of the barrel than he had on the other. He smoothly regains his feet, watching the gun track his every move, and just stands there, loose and smug and utterly...  _Rio._ "So you think you bad now, huh?" There's an amusement to his voice that she doesn't like at all, mostly for its effect on her.

"No worse than you, right?"

"Naw, Red. You ain't." The quiet sincerity throws her a little. "But you ain't gonna shoot me. It ain't in you. I know."

Her voice only trembles a little, quivering like her bottom lip before she tightens her resolve... and her grip. "You don't know me as well as you think you do. And you're not as bad as you think you are." That sickening sarcastic tone is back, held ahead of her like a shield that's too heavy for her to keep up. "Little puppy thinking it's a big bad dog. Scared someone's gonna see you for what you really are under all that bravado." Her face hardens into a mask, but for the pain it causes, the little acid splash of her words, he at least knows she doesn't really mean it. Her voice gets quiet, sad. "I've had enough pathetic excuses for men in my life lately. I didn't - I  _don't_  need that from you, too."

One such sorry example suddenly bursts into their peripheral, tripping over his stupid feet in his stupid shoes. "Bethy! I'm here!" Dean skids to a halt a few yards away, half in the shadow of a detained shipping container. "I called that FBI guy. And the cops," he brags, stupidly proud of himself. For a flash she sees and hears Boomer and it twists her stomach with nausea. He mistakes the look on her face for worry, and answers a question she probably should've had as soon as his face showed up. "Your sister's watching the kids. It'll be okay. Everything's gonna be f-"

His whiny bravado breaks off on a surprised yelp as a handful of Rio's guys sweep in from the wings and haul him back, the soft sound of landing blows emanating from the darkness they drag him into. Beth and Rio's eyes swing back to one another, and they each see something flash in the other's gaze before Beth turns and runs. 

"Aww, shit." He gives chase in an instant, needing to fix this, to set it right. Oblivious to the far-off calls of his men, the approaching wail of sirens, the lights of Canada across the way, the broken line of caution tape fluttering at the entrance to the waterwalk - all Rio sees is the fleeing form of Beth up ahead.

The wind is kicking up, slapping the water against the concrete jetty in counterpoint to Beth's frenzied pace and Rio's furious pursuit. They run to the end of the spit, Beth skidding to a stop before the sudden opening in the metal railings, a few feet of cold grey slab standing between her and freezing water. Rio almost plows into her, pumping his own brakes only when the gun she somehow hadn't dropped makes a reappearance.

His hands come up in a placating gesture, the pictogram of "don't shoot; I'm not gonna hurt you." But the look in his eye is intense under the sodium lights, and when he takes a step forward Beth backs away.

"Don't." Neither plea nor command, her tone of voice is difficult to read. He keeps coming, and Beth backs up another step - a twisted dance. "I mean it, Rio -  _don't!_ "

Again he steps up and she steps back, the edge of her bootheel suddenly running out of ground. She starts to fall, only aware of blackness everywhere but above, and he lunges to catch her close.

Then the gun goes off.

There's a shot, a scream. A splash.

Then the sirens cut out and there's only silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs & hides in her pillow fort*


	6. Who had love that's now departed...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the showdown at the docks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love how this was gonna be this little 2 or 3 paragraph placeholder piece til the next bigger chapter and it just decided it wanted to grow into... this.

The cops are understandably a little confused when they hit the scene at Detroit Wayne County Port Authority. There's a mini convoy of black vehicles that peel out - headlamps off, license plates obscured - almost invisible in the darkness until the taillights appear like ghostly eyes on the turn to the 375. There's a Fed 30 seconds later trying to run everything with a two-man crew. They split up to check the area. There's a car salesman beaten bloody and rambling a mile a minute about a bounce house. A team stays to deal with him and call a bus.

It's the other patrol that finds Beth at the end of the concrete dock, seemingly oblivious to the warnings about the barrier in need of repair. The beautiful redhead stands dazed and shivering, staring at the dark water like it holds the answer to a universally important question. The officers don't even notice the gun until they try to lead her off the little breakwater. 

She doesn't respond when they ask her gentle questions like her name and if she's okay. She barely blinks when the younger officer softly takes her arm and turns her to walk. The dull glint of sodium light off the golden barrel is all that tips them off to the gun's presence. The instant they try to remove it from her death grip, deceptively strong despite an arm that hangs limp at her side, she freaks. One second the gun is leveled at the rookie's head, the next his partner's badge, then she blinks again at a little flash of light off the stamped metal like a patient coming out of a hypnotic trance. She curls in on herself with a little whimper, the gun cradled against her stomach like a starved dog defending a scrap.

The sergeant stands calm, hand hovering over his weapon as he assesses. Weighing his young partner's education and the threat to their lives against 15 years on the job, the protocol for this, the surge of protectiveness he feels for this woman. Something bad happened here, and no one - including her - wants to make it worse. Motioning to his partner to help him help her up, they don't try to take the gun away again, not yet.

EMTs are loading a moaning Dean into an ambulance when they escort Beth over to get a shock blanket and have her checked out. Dean instantly spots her hair in the bright light - a beacon even through one swollen shut eye - and starts screaming her name in a pained and desperate howl. She flinches and starts to bring the gun up again. The officers scoop her back up, shielding her behind them, keeping a tech and a field kit before sending Dean off to Detroit Med. She's bundled into a shock blanket and checked over by the tech, who comments she's in mild shock but should be alright in a little while.

They eventually get the gun into an evidence bag, though she seems as reluctant to let it go as she is to leave the active scene. The officers and very patient paramedic convince her to at least get looked at at the hospital, and she allows it (after they promise she won't have to be in the same area as Dean and that they'll keep her apprised of what's going on at the docks.) Annie comes to get her, momming her big sis for a change. One scrip for mild sedatives and a tensely quiet drive later, they're curled together in Beth's bed, Annie holding her tight as she sobs brokenly until sleep pulls her down.

Sergeant Dugan has her car brought over and calls her twice a day on his personal cell with updates. The CSIs found a little blood on the edge of the dock, even if no one fitting Rio's description (grudgingly provided by Agent Turner) is seen at a hospital on either side or knocking over med suppliers. They have eyes on all means of transport out of town, and are in contact with RCMP and Ontario Provincial, but there have been no hits on the APB yet. They're trying to find a next of kin just in case.

A joint entourage of FBI and DPD shows up one afternoon to get another statement out of her. No one comments on her hyper quiet or the dark bruise-like shadows under eyes too tired and haunted to sparkle. She serves less than perfect coffee and store-bought cookies and holds a white-knuckle grip on Annie's hand.

A three day drag of the river hadn't turned up a body but (and the look in the detective's eyes tells her he's trying to be comforting with shit news like this) it's unlikely anyone would've survived the winter water with a gunshot if they haven't turned up by now. They linger with a few clarifying questions, finishing off the coffee and snacks that are still better than anything on offer at the precinct, satisfied with Beth's rehashed lies and Annie's believable half-truths. Beth walks them to the door, catching Sergeant Dugan alone with a wan flicker of a smile to get the names of his partner and the EMT that had looked after her that night. She whips up lemon poppyseed muffins and banana walnut loaves and sends them along as a thank you. The pic he texts of them happily munching around his desk while the Feds scowl untreated in the background earns a little exhaled puff of laughter, and she pushes down the flare of shame that hits in favor of the recognition of a trace of returning equilibrium.

Officially Rio is listed as "at large" but unofficially he's dead and the manhunt dies down too, quick and quiet - a lot less noise than she feels he deserves. They issue a death certificate to his abuela, Beth learns via the sergeant (and her address via Ruby, courtesy of Stan.) She's a sweet-tempered woman who wouldn't be out of place on a charm bracelet. For some reason she doesn't blame Beth for the loss of her little river, and calmly accepts her offer to help with the arrangements with a sad smile and a plate of _asado negro_. The Venezuelan roast is comfort food, she tells the bewildered redhead, and Beth delights her with an offer to make _pisca andina_ if she'll come for dinner. The rich soup is one of the recipes she'd committed to memory from an Andean cookbook when Jane and Danny had a presentation on a South American country last year, and makes it well enough that all her kids adore it.

Sofia comes for dinner a few nights that week, always escorted by Carlos or another of Rio's guys and handed off like she's royalty... or their own mom.

They don't talk to Beth. Or look at her. But there's a car watching the house every night, and the cleaned dishes returned to Beth's porch every morning make her think they at least liked the leftovers.

After the kids go to bed, the ladies sit drinking wine and talking about Rio: his childhood near Caracas, the tragic loss of his parents, coming to live with her at 11 with dark eyes and a massive chip on his shoulder, but such a good heart; Beth agrees. She'd known more about her grandson than he'd thought, and Beth ends up filling in far fewer gaps than she'd expected. Sofia is remarkably tolerant of Rio's "businesses" understanding his need to win respect and provide for those he cared about; the nice clean house in a nice clean part of town he'd bought her just to get her out of a rough neighborhood speaks to that. After handing over an envelope stuffed with cash so Beth can pay for the arrangements, she tugs Beth down into a hug one night expressing her gratitude that Rio had found someone like her. Beth hugs her back, unsure what to say.

They sit side by side holding hands at the memorial a week later, flanked by Rio's men like Secret Service agents round presidential widows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me! We're not done yet.
> 
> also my reference image for Rio's abuela is this amazing (and very tiny) actress named Miriam Colon. She was Mama Renata on Hawthorne a few years ago, and anyone tinier than Jada Pinkett Smith could totally fit on a charm bracelet. (https://goo.gl/images/UYGau1) that's her straight on. (https://goo.gl/images/THiEmw) and her in front of the cake, a head shorter than Marc Anthony.


	7. Hoping and praying for someone to care...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The month surrounding the memorial, a lot goes down.

The month surrounding the memorial service, a _lot_ goes down.

Sara gets a new kidney, paid for by anonymous donation and just in the nick of time. Ruby is beyond ecstatic but is genuinely puzzled over the good Samaritan, since Annie & Beth deny it and it couldn't be that skank from church. Stan convinces her to just accept the miracle and the kidney takes and Sara gets stronger almost by the hour, until she's running and playing with the rest of the kids.

What's left of Boomer is pulled out of a dumpster at Wiley Playlot, only noteworthy for being off Livernois on the wrong side of the 96.

To Beth's amazement, Annie steps up in a big way. She gets Mary Pat to back off, reaching out to Jeff's family to get her and the kids the hell outta Dodge. They'll be sharing a massive house with Jeff's sanctimonious parents (who if we're being honest are gonna drop any minute anyway) and the three of them taking a firmer hand with the boys and enrolling them in Christian school really straightens them out.

The whispered warning to their rotten egg before she takes off with her brood that they are **done** with this - and what exactly will happen if they aren't - actually _works_ coming out of her little sister's mouth. Beth couldn't be prouder.

Annie also lets go of her ex and wins custody of Sadie, taking over as the manager of Fast & Frugal and treating her employees way better than Boomer ever treated anyone that wasn't himself. Marion takes her and Sadie out for hot chocolate after they're the only ones to show up to the funeral. Sadie appreciates a "handsome kid" compliment, and both Marks girls have their jaws dropped when Marion hands them a sheaf of papers. There's research on a house a few blocks from Beth, and a certified check made out to Annie for a down payment - which she only accepts on the condition Marion take the downstairs bedroom. They become this weird multi-generational hybrid family and they're blissful.

Beth is the only one who doesn't feel like anything's getting better. She continues to spend time with Sofia, when she can. At Annie's urging, she files for divorce and moves Dean's ass out for good.

The day the papers are finalized, Carlos shows up at her door. He doesn't really speak, but sets a box on her butcher block, running a hand over the wood before offering it to Beth. She shakes it, puzzled, and he waves mutely and heads for the door. She stops him before he makes it all the way out, approaching slowly and wrapping him in a loose hug, an emphasis to the thanks for always looking out for her. He stands there motionless just long enough for it to get awkward, then gives her a gentle thump between the shoulders and extracts himself with a mumble.

The box contains stacks of envelopes, bundled together with rubber bands and topped with an initial - one for each of them. She gets the girls over in a hurry and scrubs the backsplash to kill time til they arrive. It turns out to be a _**huge**_ payment, a final cut several times what they usually made. Annie wants them to count it up, unband it and throw it in the air to dance around in, but the girls cut her off with a firm "no!" They sip at their wine and hold hands across the tabletop, eventually bundling together in a weepy group hug, blessing their literally unexpected good fortune.

Annie buys a few more 'manager' outfits, sets aside money for a college fund, and plans a ladies' vacation for Sadie's spring break.

Stan goes up a paygrade and says he'll go for the detective exam next year. After stashing part of her cut in a bank account to earn some interest (and the rest in the closet just in case) Ruby buys a custom food truck selling comfort food called the Stop in the Name of the Slaw. Their new radio spot has customers tweeting their slogan - _you have the right to remain delicious_ \- and within a month of their first sale, the truck and Ruby are trending on social media. #Ruby_put_her_foot_in_it

She, Stan and the kids plan a visit to Wisconsin Dells for the summer, intending to visit the zoo and water parks.

Beth just puts some of hers in the bank to pay down some of their debt, and almost all the rest in an untouchable interest-bearing fund for the kids' educations.

For three months, she goes through the motions of living without really feeling alive. And nothing changes.

Until it does.


	8. I know I gotta find a way...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stone cold surprise

Beth visits his grave everyday. Sometimes she brings flowers, or tequila, or a takeout container of blueberry pancakes from Ruby's, and sits there talking to him about everything and nothing, absorbing the quiet and imagining far happier endings to their story.

She tells Rio about Sergeant Dugan's partner getting engaged to the paramedic from the night he'd... left; she's not sure if she's going to the wedding, but the invitation was still sweet. She ribs him about the sergeant asking her out after the divorce finalized; she'd turned him down, of course (and the flash of Rio's smirking grin feels like a knife in her heart) but promised to save him a dance if she goes to the wedding.

Agent Turner shows up with a few "followup questions" and keeps her busy refreshing his coffee and coaxing _just one more_ cherry-amaretto scone out of her about 4 fucking times without actually asking her anything new. She finally gets rid of him when her phone blares the Alice Cooper classic as a reminder the school day is over. The unexpected visit sends her to Annie's to drop the kids off so she can squeeze in a late afternoon stop, where she paces instead of sitting, wondering "why now?" and several other things aloud to Rio's headstone like he's going to just materialize behind her and answer. She lets the bitter tears of disappointment fall when he doesn't, not able to hate him.

She goes the day Sofia tells Beth she's moving away, wanting to go home to Venezuela and see her family. Beth remembers Rio's parents are buried there, and keeps her mouth shut against the sorrowful sympathy that this amazing woman should outlive so much of her family. But Rio's boys are accompanying her, before starting new jobs down there if Beth deciphered enough of the rapid conversation between Carlos, Raza, Demon and Mr Sisco... whose name is actually Gabriel. If _that_ mentourage isn't enough to protect her on a journey, nothing is.

Sofia comes to see her once more the day of departure, to 'store up some hugs' she says with a smirk so like Rio's but vastly exceeding in warmth, and to give her something. The velvet box is worn from cherishing and obviously old, and Beth is ready to refuse _anything_ that comes in a package stamped in **that** much distinctive history... even from a woman she loves as much as Rio's abuela.

Sofia opens it and a wink of fire catches Beth's eye. Taking in the object lying there on a faded satin lining, she **_knows_** she can't accept it. Sofia draws out the delicate chain and watches as the ring through which it is looped swings like a pendulum between them. It's a diamond, mined decades ago, modest in size and blindingly beautifully clear. A cluster of tiny emeralds surround it like acolytes before a goddess, and Sofia's face is painted with nostalgia and remembrance.

"Rio's abuelo, Matías, gave this to me on the day of our wedding. It symbolized the blending of our families, and showed he would always provide for me. The emeralds are for my family, mined from Chivor in Colombia. The diamond was found in Brisas, near Matías's home in Bolivar. It is our family... it belongs in our family." Her voice is a soothing lullaby, rocking and hypnotic, and Beth is stunned when she blinks and realizes the chain has been fastened around her own neck. Whatever words of protest die at the look in Sofia's eyes, and Beth's hands couldn't undo it if she wanted, shaking too much even where they rest held softly in the older woman's. Mindful of the time, she stands, the action bringing her head just above Beth's as she remains riveted to the sofa. Sofia looks at her with that gentle wisdom and wipes Beth's tears from the cheeks she's holding in her tiny palms.

"No crying, mi hija. Nos veremos otra vez, bien?" Beth nods, not letting herself doubt that they will. She kisses and lets herself be kissed, hugs tightly and watches the boys bundle Sofia into the waiting SUV like the precious cargo she is. She watches til long after the car has turned off her street, and that evening as she's setting the table for dinner she swears she can hear the plane bearing them far away pass overhead. She compulsively fidgets with the ring around her neck and prays Rio's looking out for them all.

Another month and spring is about to spring, even though it's still freezing. Annie, Marion and Sadie take off on their vacation to warmer climates, and Dean and his parent take the kids to Orlando. At something of a looser end than usual, Beth stays a long time at the cemetery, not even realizing until a gaggle of children run through the tombstones a few rows away, chased by beleaguered parents carrying flowers.

Suddenly aware of the cold that has stiffened every muscle and joint, she shivers and decides a hot bath is in order when she gets home. As she's getting up, aided by the praying angel Sofia had selected, she feels something other than cold rough stone under her fingertips. The something is rounded, and smooth, and pale against the dark rock. It's with minor shock that she draws her pearls from its clasped hands. Fighting the urge to look around, she wills herself to look calm as she slips them in her pocket and walks to her car. Once safely inside behind the tinted windows, she takes them back out and looks carefully at the strand. Her fingers start worrying at an odd pearl, something only off about it if you're really looking.

The pearl pops open and a little slip of paper falls out. Two typed strings of numbers, one above the other; nothing else. Her phone is already unlocked and the first few digits are entered before Beth stops herself. She has to be smart about this, and that 'momsense' twigging her in her brain tells her that means forgoing her smart phone. She goes just over the speed limit til she hits the library, pulling a few atlases and world map books down and getting to work. The miniature toolkit that night reveals a bug behind her SIM card, and she leaves it in the kitchen all night next to a radio playing Australian weather updates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *suspenseful music stinger* buh-buh-BAH!  
> And yeah I'm gonna leave it there. There is either one long chapter, or two shorter ones, and then it's the end of the ride, kids. You guys have been amazing.
> 
> if anyone is curious, Sofia tells Beth they'll see each other again.


	9. Nothing's gonna stop me now...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the line holds a new beginning...

Beth manages to convince herself that she's not crazy. That she's not inventing a Rio resurrection out of whole cloth just because she misses him so much.

No one else had her pearls.

But what she's considering seems drastic, dramatic, a leap off a _very_ high cliff without the certainty of a net. She trusts that one is there, but she doesn't _know_. She should wait, or go alone first and just make sure. But something in her core tells her **this is right** (no matter how crazy it seems) and she listens to it for many reasons beyond the fact that it's Rio's voice.

When the kids get back, bursting with stories and souvenirs and fading sunburns, she waits one whole day. She puts them to bed freshly washed and slathered in aloe and kisses, and makes chocolate chip waffles with scrambled eggs for breakfast. Then she does the dishes calmly, sits them all down in the living room and says she's going somewhere. She doesn't go into detail, hoping they won't beg for too many answers, but explains it's a move and not a vacation and asks the kids pointblank if they'd rather live with her or daddy. They look from one to the other like they're communicating telepathically, and to a one say they'd prefer living with her even if it means a new city and leaving all their friends... as long as they can come back to visit sometime.

Beth gets the kids' passports from the safe deposit box and renews her own, getting everyone their necessary shots on a carefully kept timetable. She goes through the house while Dean takes the kids during the last month of school, and packs essentials and has them shipped ahead, putting the house on the market under Annie's care. She'll pay off the last of their debt and put any leftovers in a fund in Beth's name. Her little sister has really stepped up, and Beth knows she's leaving things in good hands.

The families have one last blast of a day together after school lets out, and they're a huge tangle of hugs and kisses between Beth and Annie and Ruby and their kids. She tells them I love you and see ya later, not goodbye, promising to come back for Christmas.

She and the kids make their way south in a new-ish rental Suburban, finishing the round of Spanish language tapes that have been surprisingly fun, and get to Miami in just 3 days. They chill in the airport a few hours, the kids napping pre-flight and blessedly not cranky, and they fly the final leg to _Aeropuerto La Chinita_ in Maracaibo. 

Exhausted at just past noon, she settles the kids with the housekeeper/nanny at the small vacation rental house overlooking the lake and falls into bed. She wakes late that evening and takes a long hot bath. She checks on the kids - still sleeping soundly under Marisela's watch - and goes to freshen up. When she's presentable again, she draws out a midnight blue wrap dress and a pair of espadrilles, does just enough makeup to look daring, and heads for the water taxi. It doesn't even take the extra 20 in her purse to get him to go out to the mysterious island near the mouth, just a curving smile and that little flash in her eye.

Catatumbo lightning charges the air during the ride, but Beth takes it as a good sign rather than an omen. An inexplicable phenomenon borne of the sheer force of nature; sounds like her and Rio.

He drops her off at the base of a long wooden dock creaking quietly in the dark, and holds a flashlight to keep her safe until she arrives near the gate of the palatial fortress - a holdover from one of the long bloodied wars in the country's history. The lack of a gun pointed at her head is refreshing, but she thinks it has a lot to do with a recognizable body and the state of the art security cameras watching what she'd bet is every last inch of the rock. 

Carlos answers the door, greeting her with a smile and looking wholly unsurprised that she's here. A few of Rio's familiar guys greet her and escort her past a lot of unfamiliar ones, through a lush courtyard garden towards the back of the... villa, she decides for lack of a better word. Twisting and turning through a series of labyrinthine hallways, they deposit her by a heavily carved and riveted door and take position on either side of the pale wood frame.

She wipes her hands on the soft jersey of her skirt and pushes the door open. Stepping inside, she lets her eyes adjust to the gloom before looking around, finally spotting the massive plantation desk on the back wall... and the man sitting behind it.

He's alive. He's breathing. He looks healthy and prosperous and ever so slightly lethal in a tailored linen suit. He looks... happy to see her, and a bit relieved, and not at all shocked that she's here.

God damn it. He knew.

"Hey, Red."

She decides she doesn't mind.

"Hey."

After that, they don't bother with words again for a long,  _long_ time.

* * *

Rumors start circulating about the mysterious house on the island, the fortress palace, the new kingpin who resides there. Eagle tattoo at his throat, loyal army at his command, lush redhead on his arm. Agent Turner can't get satellite clearance, but keeps an ear on the chatter. A few photos from very brave operatives in the area on other business find their way to his desk from time to time. A small wedding ceremony on the bluffs at sunset. A birthday party in the town, Rio beaming at his grandmother wearing a crown and a huge smile, everyone around the table enjoying ice cream and cake. Rio with his arms around a gorgeously pregnant Beth, pressing a kiss to the curve of her belly. The love is visible even through the grainy pixelation. 

 

The final package is a 60 second video from a long range camera, and Turner knows it'll be the last time he sees any of them... or goes looking. Rio is in the massive courtyard, his abuela knitting, his beautiful children running around secure in their bliss, and of course Beth at his side, helping him hold their son up as he toddles on his toes. He whispers something in his wife's ear and she gives him a blinding smile before the video runs out and the screen goes black.

The king eagle and his _reina Americana_.

Never to be hunted. Never to be caught. Never to be parted...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we are at the end. Thanks for coming along on this ride with me. Hope you had as much fun as I did. Brio forever!

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few ideas of how this is gonna go, but I'm open to suggestions.


End file.
